


there isn't much left

by brights (orphan_account)



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Blood, M/M, Self-Harm, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 04:16:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7493490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/brights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack walks in on something that he wasn't expecting at all, and it hits him like a ton of bricks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there isn't much left

**Author's Note:**

> * please, please, _please_ read the warnings on this one!! this is not a nice fic!  
>  * this is a bit personal, i apologize  
> * originally, this was going to be bundled with my work "[wavelength](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7061878/chapters/16053457)", but the content felt too intense for that.

It's almost like a flash, and the pain settling in his chest when he walks into the bathroom is just a bit too harsh.

 

It never seemed to bother him before now, and even at this moment, when he began to think on everything that had happened before, he seems to feel even worse, like he’s sinking more and more, and he wonders if were he to pinch himself, if he would actually wake up from an elaborate nightmare. He would have opted for the pinching thing, too, had he not been a hologram.

 

But Handsome Jack knows better, he always does, but something is gripping his heart tightly when he sees the sight before him, and he can’t even begin to form words. If he had known that this was the reason behind Rhys never letting him go further, then he would have found some way, somehow, to help him beat whatever this was that was eating him from the inside out.

 

What a joke, though, because Jack also knows how it feels, knows that there’s nothing that he can do.

 

“Rhys…” Not Rhysie, Rhys, because this was very dangerous, very scary, he would even say. He imagines that anyone would feel that way, though. Rhys is almost ghost white, eyes wide, and he looks like he’s frozen in place, his hands raised just a bit. The younger man swallows, and he tries to divert his gaze away, but something makes him turn his head back toward the other, and he wants to speak, to say something along the lines of “ _I’m sorry_ ,” but nothing comes. Jack walks closer to him, eyes on the image before him, and he wishes that it wasn’t real, if he were being honest with himself.

 

Rhys looks like he’s going to cry, but there aren’t even any tears stinging at his eyes, and Jack wonders just how long this has been going on. No wonder Rhys wouldn’t let him see his body, no wonder Rhys insisted on wearing long pajamas to sleep every night, even in the warmth, and now Jack knew why, and if he was honest with himself, he would have tried to stop it so long ago. The cuts on the tops of his thighs were awful, and they were really bleeding. Rhys curses himself for actually scrubbing his thighs to get rid of the stinging itch that came with it.

 

It made it look so much worse. Rhys curses himself over and over in his mind, and the way that Jack is staring at him is making him feel all sorts of emotions, and even now, he can’t seem to place them.

 

“You can’t be serious.” Jack’s voice is low, his eyes never leaving Rhys for a second. “Rhys, how long has this been going on for?” Rhys lowers his gaze, and he’s not really answering, but he looks at the blood pooling at the cuts on his thighs and sighs slowly, softly, as if he’s trying to regain himself. Jack knows that look, and he knows that Rhys is tired, knows that he probably just wants to sleep it off.

 

“I’m… sorry,” Rhys replies, and he sits down on the edge of the bathtub, and Jack shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose in thought. The hologram walks over to him, kneeling down in front of him and looking at Rhys, who sighs again, and Jack wishes that he was physically real, so that he could at least do something for him other than just talk to him. Jack knows what it’s like to do things to hurt yourself almost as well as anyone else.

 

“Look, kiddo,” Jack says, voice low, “I kinda had a feeling that you were doing something that you didn’t want me to know about, but this…” He fails to come up with an insult, to pull off a bluff. “This really hits me hard.” A once neutral expression almost resembles some sort of sorrow now, and Rhys can feel his heart beating a bit faster now at the sudden confession. He was expecting Jack to laugh at him, really, but he supposes that this is a much better turn out, at any rate. Rhys looks at the older man, and he feels terrible, because Jack almost seems lost for words. Jack manages a sigh and shakes his head before standing up and crossing his arms.

 

“Does it feel any better than before you did this?” Jack asks, and suddenly, Rhys feels as if he’s being scolded in Jack’s own way. And Rhys shakes his head in response, swallowing thickly. He’s already beat himself up enough, he thinks, and Jack finding out was the worst possible thing that could have happened. It was awkward, it was embarrassing, and Rhys would have gladly melted into a puddle of water if he could have. Even if the older man was a hologram, he was still showing as much emotion as anyone else would.

 

“It hurts, Jack.” Rhys is finally speaking, softly, and Jack inhales deeply. He would have cracked a joke, made a smart remark, but the situation, already fragile, he decides to lay off for a moment.

 

“I know it does, idiot. You’re bleeding a lot. You should clean that up.”

 

Not for long, though.

 

Rhys swallows again, and he’s finally about to cry, the tears making their way down his cheeks. “Not in that way,” he says, and even his voice sounds tired. “I mean… Everything hurts.”

 

“I know,” Jack replies, and he’s sincere, Rhys thinks. He understands more than he’s letting on, there’s no way that he’s going to tell Rhys that, though. And Rhys mutters a few swears as he stands and tries his best to make the bleeding stop. Jack can’t help but snicker a bit and mumble about Rhys’s use of colorful language.

 

He wishes, though, that he could help Rhys with it, but for now, because he’s stuck as a hologram, he’ll just have to sit on the sidelines and observe it, and maybe one day he’ll tell Rhys about his own experience in that department, but for now, he’ll wait.

 


End file.
